Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Cam'ron
Cam'ron
Performer
Kesha "Honey" Cargill
Kesha "Honey" Cargill
Additional Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Cameron Giles
Cameron Giles
Composer
Edward Hinson, Jr.
Edward Hinson, Jr.
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Darrell 'Digga' Branch
Darrell 'Digga' Branch
Producer
Jacob York
Jacob York
Associate Producer
Killa Cam
Killa Cam
Co-Producer
Lance "Un" Rivera
Lance "Un" Rivera
Executive Producer
Joe Quinde
Joe Quinde
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

I'm not going to sit here and watch this go on any longer You know they put my food in the dark And then expect me to look for my plate on some Mr. Magoo shit Fuck, I look like, I'm not going to watch this go on any longer I'm on y'all Harlem, who else is going to hold us down Bloodshed niggas Let's get it right this time around, understand, killer Yo, I don't understand how these cats sip Daqueri's Like it's all good down at the hit factory Be on fifty-fourth, whole clique backing me All that click clackery, take your wrist wrappery I ain't no rapper, B, I skeet oozies And I can't act, turned down three movies So gimme your chain, your jewels and your cash And your fast food, I'll eat your food fast My rude ass, carry three weapons And I'll give your face a C section and keep stepping Who else in a hurry to mirk We kill girls, rape 'em, bury their skirts Imagine me wake up 7: 30 for work, what? I'd rather run the streets 7: 30 with work But met this knucklehead, thought he want a order Came and asked me, stop pitching to his daughter Said me, it's the man, can't be Be glad I'm not in her damn panties Got her damn handy How you going to ever ask, stop carrying candy I'm a sell to anybody in your damn family Uncle Tom, your Aunt Tammy, your Grandmammy Your right hand man, Randy, understand me In Antlanta, I got an outlandish land piece And a matching land, Desert Calasandi You know the one with the whips, that's me The one with the chips and the chips, that's me The one with the toast, pants baggy, yelling out get at me Get at me, nigga, that's me The one that be running and dodging, you The one that be sucking mad dick, you The one that's scared of some yay yo Always wanna lay low 'cause your girl say so, you, biatch I could show you some ice Throw you a bite You not that good dog, who told you you're nice Your crew, switch siders When I come through, hey, Cam Dick riders But I only mess with Navigators five twenty-eight Six drivers, big buyers, where you live, we live liver Come through, stick your suppliers Mack so many hoes, dick in saliva Gash her up, ma, put it on you mouth Then I grab her neck and try to take her tonsils out And I don't got beef, I don't play those games If I did though, believe me, I would say y'all names Go to your house, red dot, scope your crib Smack your earth, snatch your seeds, choke your wiz My crew split, it was my mistake But to my nigga, Duke, we all make mistakes I'm a get shit right if I spend my cake Jimmy, I'm a get you up out of 5 H This is for my niggas that load the pipe Saying I'm the best, just not promoted right You know my life Drink, smoke, roll some dice Control the hiest Know I'm a patrol your schiest We all get schiest Ma, keep all your rice Wedding ring, hell no I like all my ice Niggas tried to make Killa Cam all polite Turn on the set now, bitch, I'm like poltergiest You the type talk about everything you got now I interrupt you like, "Not now, you hot owl" My rings like a dog, all rock wild When I flash it, everybody shocked, "Wow!" I see y'all concerned about me You ain't got to go to school to learn about me Yo, the one with mad guns, that's me The one with the yay for twenty-three, that's me The one with the ice, sliced, coke half price Yoke that's nice, that's me The one that's scared of a scuffle, you The one that say, "Baby girl, I love you" you The one that talk about hustling, never seen a oven You all about nothing, you biatch Told you I got us this time around niggas Feeling me some, huh Harlem, I got us nigga Santana, Freaky Zeeky, Jim Jones, Salty Feshon, run with us or run from us or get run the fuck over It's fuck us, so fuck y'all Killa biatch Killa bitch Killa bitch Killa bitch Killa bitch Killa bitch
Writer(s): Cameron Giles, Edward Jr. Hinson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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